Page 47 of Seductive Scot


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“Well?” she asked, her throaty voice doing things to him that he didn’t think a woman’s voice could ever do again. He clenched his teeth on the impulse to plunge his hands into her hair and kiss her. “Are ye ready or nae?”

“I’m ready,” he said. “But be gentle.” In his peripheral view, he saw his brother roll his eyes, and Reikart didn’t even give a damn. He’d take the ribbing that was to come for this one moment with her. He expected her to scamper away from him, or at the very least, attempt to get her dagger to his neck or maybe his crotch.

Instead, ever so slowly she licked her lips, and then she said, “Are ye watching my eyes?”

He nodded, his pulse pounding in his head, throat, neck—everywhere. His body registered the point of the knife at his balls before his mind acknowledged that he’d been tricked. Shock and deep admiration for her cunningness gripped him.

Laughter and cheers erupted around them, and she grinned up at him. “Never watch yer opponent’s eyes,” she said, her gaze holding his. “Watch their hands.”

“Noted,” he murmured as he swiped his hand down in a move he’d learned years ago in karate. He hit her hand in a motion that shoved the blade away from his balls, and then bending, he grasped her legs and threw her off balance. He grinned when she yelped, and he was straddling her on the soft, damp grass before she’d even stopped crying out.

She stared up at him openmouthed, her blond hair fanned around her head as she huffed her disbelief. Fury lit her eyes for a moment, and he wondered if he’d misjudged what he should have done. Then as the noise around them grew near deafening with jeers, cheers, and thunderous clapping from the men he was to train with, as well as different clansfolk who had stopped their work to come and watch, she burst out laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face.

His awareness of her, of every single thing about her, struck him like a hundred bolts of lightning to his brain, heart, and body. Her face held a look of both delicacy and strength. Her hair, which grazed his hand, was every bit as silky as he’d imagined. She looked almost ethereal in the bright sun, and she smelled even better underneath him. Her pulse beat rapidly against the pale skin of her neck. She had generous hips and shapely thighs that pressed invitingly against his own legs. He wanted to kiss her, and if they were alone, he probably would. So it was a damn good thing they were not alone. He rolled off her and stood, then bent down and offered his hand.

She took it, and damn, her hand felt so right in his. It fit perfectly. It was not supposed to fit perfectly. He was not supposed to be holding a woman’s hand. But he was.

She stood and blew at a lock of hair that hung in her eyes. Without thought, he tucked it behind her ear for her, and her eyes widened, and then she said, “Ye’re a fast learner.”

“Thanks. Can you really use that thing?” he asked, motioning to the knife.

“Oh, aye. I’ll show ye how if ye like.”

“Ye can show him after the nooning meal,” Dermot said from behind them. To everyone else, he said, “Do ye nae have chores to be done?”

The group of people gathered immediately disbanded, except for the men Reikart was to train with. When they were the only ones left besides Maggie, his mom, Grace, and Deirdre, Dermot said, “Reikart needs to finish his lessons with the men first.”

Deirdre nodded, and when she tugged her hand from his, he looked down in surprise. He hadn’t even realized he had still been holding her hand. “Do ye want to meet at Finall’s Cliff?” she asked, and he glanced from her hand to her face. The eagerness in her eyes made him smile. “We can set up throwing targets. ’Tis an excellent spot for that. And then I can teach ye some Court etiquette.”

“It’s a date.” He frowned at his own words. Why had he said that?

Deirdre was frowning, too. “What’s a date?”

Relieved she didn’t know the word, he opened his mouth to tell her it was just a meeting, but his mom stepped close to them and said, “That’s when a man asks a woman he’s interested in to spend time with him.”

Reikart glared at his mom to shut up.

“I’m impressed, Reik,” Rhys said, sharing a look first with Maggie and then their mom.

Jesus. Not his brother, too. He had to put a stop to this now, before Deirdre got hurt. He liked her. Hell yeah, he did. He was attracted to her like a damn stupid moth to a flame. She’d consume him, he suspected, if he let her. The fire would feel freaking fantastic to his frozen heart, but he didn’t deserve that warmth.

“It’s a date,” he said low so no one who was not close to them would hear, “in the sense that we will be working together and will quite possibly need to rely on each other to stay alive. I’m only interested—” he shot daggers at his mom, brother, Maggie, and Grace, whom he suspected were all trying to meddle “—in discovering what you can teach me before we go to Court.”

“Of course,” Deirdre said, her tone not telling him whether his words had hurt her feelings or not. “I’ll see ye at the cliff after the nooning meal for our date.”

She turned on her heel and made her way out of the training circle, and he watched as she crossed the courtyard. When the castle door shut behind her, he turned toward his brother and the rest of Rhys’s co-conspirators. Waving them away from the circle and well out of earshot of the others, he said, “I wish I could say I was surprised—” he raked his gaze over his mom “—but I’m not. You’ve made no secret of interfering in my personal life, and as my mother, I always believed that was your right, even if it grated on my nerves.” When she opened her mouth to speak, he held up a hand, and she bit her lip but nodded. “I know the little game you played with Amanda. You think I fell for her because you made it seem like you didn’t want me to, but you’re wrong.” He was pleased to see he’d surprised his mom. “I fell for her because she was right for me, and I wanted it. I wantedher.”

He looked to Maggie now. “No offense, Maggie—we barely know each other—but I don’t want… I don’t want—” Damn it, he did want Deirdre. He wasn’t going to lie. “I don’t want complications.” That would have to suffice. “Your sister isn’t even from my time.”

“Aye, but—” Maggie began.

Reikart shook his head. “There are no ‘buts.’”

He turned to Rhys and glared at him. “I expected more from you. Some loyalty. Some understanding of where I’m coming from.”

“Reik, Amanda’s death—”

“I can’t,” Reikart interrupted, knowing what Rhys was going to say because he’d said it a million times. Amanda’s death was not his fault. But it was. Sure, there were a lot of ifs. If she’d buckled her seat belt. If it hadn’t been raining. If the deer hadn’t run out on the road. If the road hadn’t been narrow and winding. If it hadn’t been pitch-black. The only damnifthat mattered wasif he had slowed down. Maybe then she’d still be alive.